gh C-springed carriage. Looking from one to the other, the great
difference made by little things was apparent. An application of
powder-puff to the moist face of the girl at the railings would have
worked improvement; her cotton gloves hung down flaccidly from the
bare hand which held up her skirt; perhaps some such thought as that
of the unfair distribution of C-spring carriages in this world crossed
her mind, as she turned away and languidly continued her journey
westward under the trees.

The seats were full of a heterogeneous collection of people, all more
or less under the drowsy influence of that stagnant air. Here and
there men were to be seen asleep in the chairs. Heads in tall hats
nodded, debarred the luxury enjoyed by those tramps who lay at full
length under the trees on the grass behind. Between those luxuriating
on the grass, men lying in their shirt-sleeves, with heads a-resting
in the laps of tired-faced women, whose children played or cried
noisily around, and those who passed in the procession of carriages,
was the intervening line of people from which all sorts of specimens
could be taken of the great mediocracy of England--those who could no
more afford a carriage than they could afford to lie on the grass. The
men's heads were branded with tall hats, remnants and summer sales
were suggested in the costumes of many of the women; an occasional
glimpse of shoes or hosiery explained why the graceful holding up of
the skirts should be unstudied or unknown on this side of the Channel.
And their gloves were of the same character as the hose.

Curious specimens were to be found amongst that crowd. A man passed
whom I recollect seeing there as long as I can recollect going to the
park. Go round the world and back, and here one was certain to find
him. I know his income--it is just three hundred a year; except that
his whiskers had got a little whiter, he looked just the same as
usual. The frock-coat he wore I have a sort of suspicion was the same
as I saw on him two years ago. I could swear to the umbrella--at least
the handle, because possibly it had been recovered. The frock-coat
would obviously not see another season--not that it was showing any
tinge of green about the shoulders, far from it. But perhaps it was a
feeling of doubtfulness about the coat, which prompted a startling
departure in his costume. He had gone in for a pair of those yellow,
chamois-coloured gloves which have made their appearance